Words of Taming
by Kay Willow
Summary: Arietta the Wild needs at least a touch of civilization. Not too much -- that would ruin it -- but juuust enough to get by. Maybe to be a little thrilling. There are a few words in particular she needs to learn. //Ion/Arietta//


**.words of taming.**

.

She was like a tiny, perfect doll, sitting in her ruffled skirts and flowing sleeves and the dainty little cap that he had given her. Her eyes were wide and her hair too big for her; he just wanted to... _pet_ her all the time.

But that was not appropriate.

"We're having a tea party, Arietta," he said pleasantly. "Won't you try some of your tea?"

The girl ducked her head, looking dubiously at the liquid, and her arms shifted, as if searching for the stuffed toy she had left behind. "It's hot," she murmured. "Water isn't supposed to be hot."

She looked up at him again, uncertain, as if seeking his confirmation. Is grass green? Does fire burn? Her reality hinged upon his answers to these questions; his word could turn the grass blue or make fire harmless. He loved it. "But it's tea," Ion told her, gentle. "Tea is supposed to be served hot. Go on, try some. It should be cool enough to drink by now." To demonstrate, he lifted his cup and took a sip, and smiled at her.

Reassured somewhat, Arietta reached out and awkwardly took the teacup, trying to mimic his delicate grip on the handle, and sipped cautiously at it. She grimaced. "It tastes like hot water," she said, disapproving.

Ion laughed a little, and she flushed prettily, although he couldn't have said if she was pleased to have amused him or embarrassed to be laughed at. It didn't really matter. "With leaves in it," he added.

"I'm used to water having _leaves_ in it," she said in a much quieter voice, starting to shift restlessly. Ion wondered if he should let her have the doll; clinging to it kept her still, giving her the ability to sit motionless instead of fidgeting with predator's energy.

"But," Ion said, still smiling, "even if you don't like it, you were given something nice, weren't you?" Arietta hesitated, fingers curling and uncurling on the tablecloth, so he prompted, "Yes, you were. It was given to you, so it was _nice_ of the other person, since no one _has_ to give you things. Isn't that right?"

"Yes."

"So you were given something nice. Even if you didn't like it, you are expected to say something when people give you nice things," Ion reminded her.

Arietta ducked her head and murmured, "Thank you, Fon Master Ion."

There was a knock at the door behind Ion, and the smile slipped instantly off Ion's face as a guard entered the room. "Sir, the Oracle Knights conference is about to begin. Grand Maestro Mohs suggested that... you might want to be there."

"I'm busy," Ion said mildly.

"W, with all due respect, sir, he said that unless you were working--"

"I _am_ working." Ion's eyes narrowed. He couldn't see the guard, no doubt hovering in the doorway directly behind him, but he had been irritated by the man's arrival and was growing steadily more irritated by his refusal to leave. "I am training my guardian. So I'm afraid you'll have to tell Grand Maestro Mohs that I'm unavailable."

Like he _cared_ about the stupid conference; a bunch of old men sitting around a table, preaching about recruitment and training and military exercises. Old men deciding who would live and who would die, as if _their_ lives were worth as much as the fancy armor they had commissioned for themselves.

As if _anyone's_ was, when the Score had already determined every inch of it.

"Sir," the guard started, his voice firmer, and his armor jingled as he stepped forward.

Arietta shot to her feet, her brows arching down in an almost ferocious scowl. "Ion said that he was unavailable," she said, her tremulous voice clear. "You should leave. Now."

There was a brief silence, and then the guard muttered something reluctant, stepping back. Ion allowed himself to relax and smile slightly, and he pushed himself to his feet once the door was closed. "Thank you, Arietta," he said. "Now, do you know why I said that?"

She fidgeted a little, but remained standing. "Because -- I did something nice for you?" she answered, not sounding entirely certain of it. If he told her now that grass was blue...

"Yes," Ion said, circling around the table to her. "Something I couldn't do for myself." Curse his pretty, polite public image, the smiling boy who loved the world and didn't, didn't, didn't hate everyone in it. Everyone except for this tiny doll, who had willfully survived the worst the Score had to offer. This survivor, this delicate creation. His.

"I'm going to hug you, Arietta," he said, and smiled in spite of himself as her eyes went wide. "What do we say...?"

The small girl hovered, leaning ever so slightly towards him, and then away. "Please?" she said softly.

Ion took the remaining step between them and reached out to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close against him. She was so warm and trembling and wild, an animal that might shy away at any moment, but an animal slowly, slowly becoming tamed. After a moment she slipped her arms around his back, and shivered as his lips brushed her temple.

"Thank you," he thought he heard her say.

_Perfect._


End file.
